


Five Times Sam Winchester Found Himself in a Barn

by tahirire



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen, Prompt Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-03-25
Updated: 2009-03-25
Packaged: 2017-10-26 05:13:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 501
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/279083
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tahirire/pseuds/tahirire
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For the prompt: Sam,barn,soap,jerk, "It's more complicated than that."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Five Times Sam Winchester Found Himself in a Barn

1989

The afternoon sun filtered in long streams through cracks in the roof as Sam lay on his belly, looking over the edge of the hay loft to the barn floor.

“Dean!”

Sam searched carefully below for any sign of his big brother through the dust. It looked like a looooong way down.

“Dean?”

Sam bit his lip in concentration. Dean said the hay would catch him, but Sam hadn’t been so sure. Suddenly, something stirred from deep within the golden pile of straw. Sam grinned as his brother’s triumphant fist rose above the swirling dust cloud.

Dean emerged laughing, invincible.

1998 

The storm was becoming deafening when they finally saw it; an old ramshackle barn, sticking up from the pasture like skeletal remains of a long-forgotten creature reaching for the rolling thunder.

Sam barely heard John’s voice when he yelled for them to hold on, and he reached instinctively for the dashboard as the Impala cut her way roughly across the bramble and mud until John brought her screeching to a halt inside the failing structure.

“Hunker down here for the night,” John grunted, eyeing the purple-green clouds. “Watch for twisters.”

Sam swallowed hard.

Dean smiled into the raging sky, exhilarated.

2006  


“You are such a friggin’ jerk.”

“Find a new insult, Sam.”

Sam shifted uncomfortably in the saddle. “We could just _hike_ there!”

“This way is faster. Come on, you tryin’ to tell me that with all the shit we deal with- you’re afraid of this?”

“It doesn’t like me, Dean.” Sam complained, curling his knees higher to better fit the stirrups.

“That’s ‘cos you’re a freak. Isn’t it sweetheart,” Dean crooned, reaching to pat Sam’s horse on the neck. “Poor thing, hauling Sam’s ginormous ass …”

“I hate you.”

“Just ride, John Wayne.”

Dean smoothly guided his horse away, effortless.

2008 

Sam learned to search out remote places to hide. He lived in abandoned cabins; he slept in the cold back seat of the car.

He drove until she protested, whining from the constant strain. He wondered if she suspected - if she saw the black of his soul reflected in her paint.

He left her alone in the red-painted shed. He went to the crossroads.

When he returned, he fell into her embrace. Then he gathered a bucket, soap, and a sponge. He rinsed her grime away. He promised never to leave her again.

Dean screamed in his nightmares, burning.

2009

Sam felt the blast when Anna took flight. He felt it the way he felt his own power – not just a puff of air, but on the inside, deep in his gut, where it counted.

It kind of hurt.

“Think he’s gone for good?” Dean whispered. His voice was tense, hopeful.

Sam saw the pallor in his brother’s cheeks, the tremor in Dean’s hand, running nervously through his short cropped hair. Sam looked to where Alistair had vanished.

Sam really didn’t want to answer.

“Dean … I think … it’s more complicated than that.”

Dean turned his face away, broken.


End file.
